


Welcome to Starling City, Captain America!

by stacydm



Series: Captain America vs. Green Arrow [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:33:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stacydm/pseuds/stacydm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The four times Felicity meets Captain America, and the one time Oliver does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Laundry Room

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the very first fan fiction I have written, inspired by one of the many wonderful works I've read on AO3 (specifically: When Universes Collide by NocturnalRites). I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Felicity outfit: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=117743669

The first time Felicity met Captain America, she was having an abnormally normal Friday night. With her evening off from Arrow and QC business, Felicity decided it was high time she actually washed some clothing, rather than purchasing new stock. She took over her complex's laundry room, and was busy dancing to an upbeat pop song blaring from her tablet and folding one of her colourful, lacy thongs when Steve Rogers appeared with his own basket of unmentionables. 

Felicity was mid-dance, shaking her bottom to the thump of the bass, when she noticed him. Squeaking from shock, Felicity dropped her thong mid fold. 

"Oh! Sorry!" She rushed to turn down the volume on her tablet. "I didn't think anyone else would be here tonight, since it's a Friday night and, well, usually people go out on a Friday night. They don't stay in and do laundry. Unless they don't really have a life...not that you don't have a life! And I don't think that I don't have a life. Sure, I'm the first one to admit I could really get out more, but I don't get out more because I'm busy. Which is the whole reason I'm doing laundry on a Friday night anyway." 

Felicity wanted to crawl into a hole when she glanced up at the tall stranger. He was gorgeous, and she was an babbling idiot. _Way to make a great first impression, Smoak_. She internally rolled her eyes before taking a deep, steadying breath. "What I mean to say is, let me give you some room. I'm done anyway and the machines are free." 

She thumbed to the washing machine and frantically began piling her neatly folded clothing into a laundry basket. 

* 

Nostalgia overtook him when he spotted the small blonde woman. The sight of her painted lips, so much like Peggy's, and her bright blue nails, a perfect match to his first Captain America uniform, brought him back to another lifetime--one without the complications of the 21st century. 

But when he spotted the woman's tiny thong, a different feeling swirled around his brain, and a blush crept up his neck. Natasha once tried to explain why women, and even men, wore such things, but he could never understand how anyone deemed it a proper undergarment. 

Steve fell back on the one thing he knew best (other than being a superhero): manners. Shifting his laundry basket into one hand, he extended the other. 

"Hi. I'm Steve Rogers." 

* 

"Felicity Smoak," she smiled, walking a step forward to take his extended hand. His very, very large, somewhat calloused hand. _Just like Oliver's_ , she thought. 

Immediately, Felicity scolded herself. Thinking about Oliver and anything Oliver-related, especially his general hugeness, was off-limits. She instructed her brain when she left QC that very evening, after she made romantic dinner plans for Oliver and Sara (again), that she was not allowed to think of him in any capacity, and if she did, it was strictly associated with their employer-employee status. 

_Diggle has big hands too. Attached to big arms. Bigger in fact. Much more like Steve's. Compare him to Diggle instead_ , she willed herself.  


"Who's Diggle?" Steve asked.  
"Oh, I said that out loud? Sometimes my brain-to-mouth function doesn't really work. It's a curse," she shrugged, "I was just thinking that you look like my friend John Diggle. Well, no, wait. You don't really look like him. It's just that Digg's arms are huge. And your arms are huge. And, actually, that's really where your similarities end."   
"Um, thank you?" he questioned, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly at Felicity's sort-of compliment.  
"You are very welcome. Trust me, being compared to Digg is a good thing. He's quite handsome. And when I said your arms were the only similarity, I didn't mean that you aren't handsome too, because you are. I mean, _I_ don't think you're handsome," she emphasized, struggling to backpedal, "It's just that you are handsome. In the conventional sense. Strong jaw. Big muscles. Straight teeth. Tall. All very well known qualities of a handsome person." 

_No wonder Oliver picked Sara_ , Felicity scowled at herself once more. She couldn't even carry on a reasonable conversation with a regular human being, let alone kick bad guy ass before dressing up in thousand dollar gowns and wowing billionaires at fancy galas. 

Knowing that she wasn't going to stop her brain from thinking about Oliver any time soon, she gathered up her belongings, eager to escape to the emergency pint of mint chip she kept in her freezer. 

* 

Felicity's bright smile, and bumbling honesty, warmed Steve's heart. This was exactly what he needed, what he'd taken a leave of absence to find. Normal, honest, real people. 

"Well Steve Rogers, it was nice to meet you. Have fun with your Friday night laundry!" She bounded out of the laundry room, clearly flustered by their conversation.  
"Nice to meet you too," he called after her, wishing that instead of leaving him to his laundry, this Felicity Smoak would have even more to say.


	2. The Coffee Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time Steve crossed paths with Felicity was a week after their first encounter. It was a sunny Saturday morning, and he was enjoying a cup coffee with Natasha at a cafe two blocks from his place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicity outfit: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=117756526

The second time Steve crossed paths with Felicity was a week after their first encounter. It was a sunny Saturday morning, and he was enjoying a cup coffee with Natasha at a cafe two blocks from his place.

"You've had a week to play this game Cap. How much longer are you going to try to be normal?"  
He fidgeted with his coffee mug before shrugging. "I don't know. Until I get back to who I was?"  
"You're still that same person Steve," Natasha placed her hand over his, in an uncharacteristic show of affection. Steve smiled at her, before glancing towards the cafe's door. Its small chime alerted him to a petite blonde woman entering the cafe, who just happened to be the same blonde he'd been thinking about all week. Naturally, Natasha's eyes followed Steve's. "Know her?" she asked.

Steve was well aware that Natasha, master of interpreting body language, already knew the answer, so instead he responded to her unspoken question. "Her name is Felicity. She lives in my townhouse complex. I met her last week when I was doing some laundry."  
"You should probably go say hi. That's what people in this century do when they see someone they know."  
"I don't really know her Natasha."  
"When I said 'see someone they know', I meant see someone they'd like to bend over a desk. And don't try to deny it Mr. Innocent," she smirked.

*  

Felicity was running late. She promised Digg she would meet him for training fifteen minutes ago, and, since she was already behind schedule, Felicity figured the best defense was a good offence. She would bring Digg his favourite muffin, making him forget all about her tardiness, and, hopefully, the whole "train Felicity plan" that Oliver concocted the minute Slade Wilson showed his face. As if any amount of training would keep her alive if Mister-I'm-Crazy-And-Mirakurued-Up-Wilson decided she was dead.

Although Felicity's own mortality didn't keep her up at night, the fact that Slade Wilson's appearance in Starling scared the beejesus out of Oliver _and_ Sara definitely did. So along with Digg's muffin, she planned on counteracting her total lack of sleep with the largest coffee of all time. 

Completely unaware of her surroundings (Digg would not be happy), she walked directly into what she thought was a wall. Turned out, it was a he. A very specific he.

"Hello Miss. Smoak," a familiar voice said. Looking up, way up, she discovered the voice's owner was familiar for a reason.  
"Steve! Hi! I'm so sorry for walking into you."  
"It's alright. No harm done."  
"Of course not. You're super hard. I mean, like a concrete wall, not like..." Felicity trailed off. More words would not help her out. Thankfully, Steve didn't seem to follow Felicity's mind into the gutter, which she was more than grateful for.  
"How are you today?" he asked, pulling up a spot beside her in line.

*

Although Felicity told him she was tired, Steve would have guessed she had hours of rest, judging by her positive attitude. When he said as much, she mentioned that the coffee she planned on ordering was not her first cup of the day.

"Really, I would sink a caffeine IV into my vein if that was an option," she laughed.  
"Morning Felicity," the barista welcomed her as an old friend. "Usual?"  
"Yes please. And one of the chocolate caramel muffins."  
"Meeting Diggle this morning, then?"  
"He'll be happy to hear you remember his favourite," she smiled broadly. It was apparent to Steve that this Diggle guy meant a lot to her. As the barista disappeared to the display case to get a muffin, Felicity turned to him. "What are you having?"  
"I already had my cup of coffee." He motioned to the table where Natasha sat. She glanced up and gave them a wave, before turning back to her phone.  
"Oh," Felicity frowned a little. "Are you sure you and your girlfriend don't want anything? My treat. An apology for bumping into you." Before Steve could say anything more than a small shake of his head, the barista handed Felicity her muffin bag and extra large coffee.  
"You tell that Diggle to come see us soon," she told Felicity with a wink.  
"I will!" She turned once more to Steve. "I've got to run, so have a great weekend!" She waved towards Natasha, coffee cup in hand, and disappeared from the cafe before Steve even realized she was leaving.

"She's cute," Natasha said with a grin when Steve returned to their table. "Who or what is diggle?"  
"Reading lips again Natasha? In some circles that could be considered very rude. Diggle is a who. He's a friend of hers."  
"Friend or _friend_?"  
"I'm not sure."  
"Personally, she seems about your speed, so my guess is that this Diggle is just a friend. You should really ask her out, Cap. You wanted to get back to normal? Well, dating normal girls is how you're gonna get there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for your feedback! I'm so happy you're enjoying it :) I'm sort of brainstorming a multiple part series...so we'll just have to see where our imagination takes us! Also, if you're looking for more (I know this chapter was a little short), number three is a little bigger.


	3. The Mailbox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third time Felicity met Steve, it was late on a Tuesday night and she was just arriving home from QC, equal parts thankful and pissed that she wasn't "needed" at her night job (or so Oliver had not-so eloquently put it).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicity's outfit: www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=117758919

The third time Felicity met Steve, it was late on a Tuesday night and she was just arriving home from QC, equal parts thankful and pissed that she wasn't "needed" at her night job (or so Oliver had not-so eloquently put it). She just put the key in her mailbox, when Steve appeared at her side.

"Hi!" Her cheerfulness was forced. Though he schooled his face quickly, she knew she hadn't fooled him.  
"Evening Miss. Smoak. Did you not have a good day?"  
"Felicity, please." She wondered how Steve managed so much warmth behind his formality. She had attended enough QC events and fundraisers to know that formality most often came with cold hearts.  
"Felicity." She tried (unsuccessfully) not to think of Oliver as Steve tested out her name. "Your day?" He pressed.  
"Normally, I would say that my day was fine, but that would be a big fat lie and I really don't think I can stomach another one, so, in the spirit of honesty, my day was pretty infuriating and I'm happy it is over. How about yours?"

*  
Her confession triggered Steve's guilt, since he couldn't very well be honest with her about his past or his day job. He expected feeling this way when he decided to take leave, and committed that when he could, he would be honest about the here and now.

"My day was successful," he told her proudly, peering into his own mailbox and pulling out a postcard from Natasha and an unmarked letter he could only assume was Captain related.  
"I'm happy to hear that." And she sounded so heartfelt, that it warmed Steve's soul."What made it so successful, if you don't mind me asking?"

As they walked towards her front door, Steve explained how he spent the day looking for volunteering opportunities, and how, after some searching, he found one that he thought was worthwhile.

"So I'll be building homes, shelters, whatever they need, in the Glades."

Felicity clearly agreed that it was a wonderful idea, for she dropped her purse and pulled him in for a hug, murmuring how awesome that was. Her affection surprised him, and he did his best to ignore the uptick in his heart beat and her warm breath against his chest.

"Thank you," he mumbled into her hair ( _which isn't as soft as kitten and doesn't smell as good as a field of strawberries_ , he repeated over and over, wishing it was true). "I'm pretty happy about being able to do some good while I'm here."

Felicity was blushing when she stepped back from him, and Steve wanted to hug her all over again.

"Sorry...I don't normally hug people I've only exchanged a few sentences with. Well, that's not exactly true. There was this one time--"  
"I didn't mind," Steve interrupted softly. Somewhat timidly, he added, "Would you maybe like to exchange a few more sentences over a meal? I was just about to start dinner and there will be more than enough for two. You can tell me more about that one time you hugged another person you didn't know all that well."

Felicity picked her purse off the floor before linking her arm with his. "Lead the way."

*

She examined Steve's home when she entered.Not for the things her vigilante coworkers searched for, like escape routes, but for normal things (like cleanliness and personality hints). Though the layout mimicked her own place, the decor was completely different. Felicity's living room (and bedroom and kitchen if she was being frank) was crowded with eclectic furniture, bright artwork, and knickknacks (especially those of the IT or beauty product variety). Steve's home, however, was very simple, practical, and clearly lacking a woman's touch.

"Your girlfriend doesn't live with you?" she blurted out.  
"I don't have a girlfriend."  
"But the super duper pretty lady, at the coffee shop, red hair?" Felicity pointed to her head, "Smoking hot body?" Felicity gestured to her own body and did a sort of shimmy, which made Steve chuckle. "Not your girlfriend?"  
"Not my girlfriend," he confirmed. "Natasha is a colleague and a friend."  
"Oh. I just assumed...you're beautiful and she's beautiful. And beautiful people tend to date other beautiful people..." _Which is why Oliver has no interest in dating me_ , she moped.

Steve snapped her out of self-pity mode, almost instantly, when he replied, "Your boyfriend must be very beautiful then."

Felicity laughed loudly at that. "No boyfriend for me," she admitted. And Steve smiled, seemingly pleased, before he turned around and asked if spaghetti and meatballs and garlic toast sounded good to her. Which it did.

*

"I'm not very good with technology," Steve declared, after Felicity explained to him (or at least tried to explain to him) what she did before she was demoted to Queen Consolidated CEO Oliver Queen's EA. "For instance, I have this," he pulled out one of Stark's creations from his desk drawer, "and have no idea what it does."  
"Seriously?" Felicity snatched the contraption out of Steve's hands and started tinkering with it. "It's a phone. Did you really not know that?" When Steve shook his head, Felicity told him that he really wasn't lying when he admitted his technology shortcomings. "It's next gen. Seriously next gen. Where did you get it?"  
"I have a friend who's into technology too. A phone, you say?"  
"You have to introduce us! I feel this friend of yours could be my kindred spirit. And yep, it's a phone. Though it's really so much more. See this..." She spent the next half hour showing him everything that the phone could do while he chopped onions and molded meatballs and stirred tomato sauce. Her comments on bits and bytes and speeds, and so many other things, made Steve feel like he was sitting back in the labs with Stark and Dr. Banner. Except, with Felicity, it wasn't nearly as taxing.

*

Steve lead Felicity to the dining table, which he had set as she prattled on about his phone. Suddenly feeling very guilty, she put it down on his coffee table and apologized.

"Sometimes I go a little over board with techno babble. I'm sorry for basically not doing a thing to help you with supper."

Steve looked confused and motioned for her to sit.

"I invited you to dinner. Why would you be cooking? You're the guest of honor."  
 _This guy is like a fairytale prince. Except not, since fairytale princes are probably all macho and stuck in the women-cook, men-fight world,_ Felicity thought. Or at least, she thought she thought. Steve, however, heard every word.  
"I like to think that some fairytale princes would more than support equal rights, and be happy to cook for their princesses."  
"I would also like to think that," Felicity agreed. "Do you have any wine to go with dinner? I have a bottle at my place if you'd like some."  
"I don't actually have any wine," he looked disappointed and it tugged on Felicity's heart.  
"Like I said, I have a bottle at my place. Be right back!"

Felicity scrambled to her house, eager to get back to her non-date, which is what she decided to call it, since it could just be a friend situation, or it could be something more. That's when her phone buzzed.

"Hi Sara. What's wrong?" She asked. Sara never called her, so Felicity figured there must be an emergency. But when Sara told her nothing was wrong and turned the conversation back to her, Felicity was confused.

"I don't want to sound rude, because you're more than welcome to call me whenever you would like, and I encourage it, because I think you're great, and I think I'm great, and I think that two great people should be able to chat on the phone, but, why are you calling me if nothing's wrong?"  
"I was wondering if you were busy."  
"Um...I'm having dinner with a friend right now, so yes?"  
"Sorry. Not tonight busy, but next weekend busy. Laurel is planning a girls night at some spa. I know we have a lot on our plates with Slade, but I can't turn down Laurel. I was hoping you would come. She's inviting a bunch of her girlfriends, so really it will just be Sin, Thea, you, and me against Laurel and her rather snobby gaggle of girlfriends."

As much as hanging out with Laurel's rat pack sounded terrible, Felicity agreed to attend. When she told Sara that it sounded like fun, she could hear the "doubt it" in Sara's scoff.

"Thanks for the invite. I really should get back to my friend."  
"Is this friend a boy by any chance?"  
"I'll tell you about it at girls night."

Felicity was just beginning to hope there would be something to tell.

*

Steve poured both of them a glass of the red Felicity brought over. She seemed happier when she came back from her apartment, and as much as he wanted to know why, he didn't want to be nosy. At least, not about that.

"What do you think of the spaghetti?" he asked instead.  
Felicity answered him, mouth full of garlic toast, with a sound that he took as pleasure. She elaborated when she finished chewing. "It's amazing Steve! I don't think I've ever had spaghetti this good. How did you become such a chef? Or is that your secret? That you're a chef?"  
"My secret?"  
"Sure. Everyone's got a secret."

Steve choked on his wine, worried Felicity somehow knew his alter-ego. He realized she was just teasing  after she winked.

"Maybe when you get to know me better, I'll let you in on it," he flirted. Or at least, he tried to flirt. Natasha purchased him a how-to book when they started working together, claiming seduction was a key skill in their business. It wasn't a skill set he was comfortable with yet. "What's your secret?"  
"Ditto to your answer. So, really, how'd you learn your way around a kitchen?"  
"Couple reasons really. My parents were in the war, so some of the homestead work fell to me. I also had a lot of health problems. Diet was one of the ways I tried to manage it. And, this is embarrassing, but I had a friend once suggest to me it'd be a way to find a dame."  
"A dame?"  
"Uh...a girlfriend. My friend, he liked black and white pictures, movies I mean," Steve covered quickly.

By their second helping of meatballs, Felicity was focused on his soon-to-be work in the Glades.

"Have you done much construction, or will this volunteer opportunity be your first attempt?"  
"I helped with some of the New York clean-up," Steve admitted, "And that's about it."  
"You helped with New York?" Felicity was intrigued, and Steve wanted to kick himself for telling her that.  
"I'm from Brooklyn. Seemed like the right thing to do."

That seemed to satisfy her, and itching to distract her, he poured each of them another glass of wine.

"Red's my favourite. Do you prefer red or white?"  
"Whisky, if I had to choose."

On and on the questions went. Steve found out Felicity's favourites, her dislikes, her goals, and in return, he told her things that he could: he was military, he boxed for exercise, he loved to draw, he tried yoga once (and only once), he was having a really nice time...Felicity squeezed his hand when he said that last part, which he took as a return of the sentiment.

They finished their pasta over the last of the wine, and once Felicity drained her glass, Steve stood, bringing all that he could carry back to the kitchen. Felicity followed him with her own dirty plate, and helped him do the dishes. He washed. She dried. It was so domestic, so normal, and just the thing Steve was looking for. He was about to suggest they watch a movie, when her phone made an angry noise.

*

"Sorry," Felicity bent down to her purse to retrieve her phone. "It's my boss," she said apologetically. "Hello?"  
"Come to the foundry now," Oliver growled on the other end.  A big part of her wanted to shove his earlier words in his face, but of course, that wouldn't serve any higher purpose, so she swallowed them and said she was at her building and would be there soon. That was before she realized she indulged in a little too much wine to drive herself over there. She sent a quick text to Diggle for a pick-up, and he obliged. _Probably happy to escape Growly Oliver,_ she reasoned.  
"Duty calls," Felicity shrugged. "Thank you for dinner. This was way better than the ice cream and leftover Thai food I had planned."  
"We should do this again sometime," he tentatively suggested.  
"I would really like that. I already took the liberty of programming my number into your amazing phone," Felicity  beamed. Steve grabbed a scrap piece of drawing paper and quickly scribbled on it before handing it to her.  
"And, since I'm not exactly sure how to program a phone number into a phone, this is mine...the old fashioned way."  
"Nothing wrong with old fashioned," she smiled, having no idea how much her words meant to him. Before Felicity left, and after a firm, good-bye and thank-you handshake, she walked up to a surprised Steve, leaving him even more surprised from the kiss she planted on his cheek.

Not even Oliver's grumbling could dissolve her happy mood after that.


	4. The Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fourth time Steve saw Felicity, she was very, very naked...

The fourth time Steve saw Felicity, she was very, very naked, but it wasn't because of a happy situation. Not that Steve was the kind man who would find himself in that kind of situation after only meeting somebody three times...

It happened two nights after their dinner date. Though "date", according to Natasha, wasn't the right term.

"First, Steve, you didn't technically ask her out. You invited her over for a nice dinner. Maybe she thinks that you want to be friends, and only friends. And since you weren't ballsy enough to lay one on her after the cheek kiss, how exactly was she supposed to know you want a date-date?"

Natasha's words played around in his mind. He knew exactly why he hadn't followed up the soft kiss on the cheek with a real kiss on the lips. For starters, it would have been ungentlemanly. The bigger obstacle, and that would that actually stopped him from making a move, was his inability to be a normal man. Felicity was a nice girl, and he was a super solider that would, inevitably, be called on again. He wasn't sure if he wanted to drag her down his rabbit hole.

Regardless of his doubts, they made plans to go out to a movie on Saturday afternoon. It was an unorthodox first-date time, but Felicity couldn't make evenings work all that well because of her job.

Steve didn't really understand Felicity's career. He asked her during  their dinner what an EA was, and she rolled her eyes and told him it was far from what she should be doing with her mad IQ and superhuman computer talent. Neither her reaction or her statement helped him understand why evenings were usually off limits.

So he went to his source for everything current: Natasha. Her answer helped, at first. She told him that Felicity was to Oliver Queen, as Pepper was to Tony, and Steve was more than happy to compare Felicity and Pepper. They were both bright, beautiful ladies. It wasn't until he started thinking about Felicity and Mr. Queen sharing the same type of relationship as Pepper and Tony that he became mildly concerned.

His mild concern only worsened when Natasha pulled up a photo of Oliver Queen and whistled in appreciation.

*

Felicity's day at QC was long. Meetings that dragged. Dealing with Isabel. Grumpy Oliver. Then, after all that, she went directly to the foundry, and it was no better. Grumpy Oliver was still hanging around, slamming Roy into the mat over and over. Her IT re-build, though complete enough for their systems to function, still had some tricky bugs she was tweaking. Sara wasn't around, which was both good (because then there was a distinct lack of eye-sex around the foundry) and bad (because then Grumpy Oliver was Super Grumpy Oliver). Digg had also called it an early night, leaving Roy alone to deal with Oliver's mood. When Felicity had enough of watching (mostly hearing) Roy get pummeled, she blew up at Oliver, they got into a fight, and she stormed out.

She was still fuming when she got home, so she poured herself a glass of wine. And then she poured herself another. The giggles set in midway through her second glass and soon there were stitches in her side over nothing more than a silly commercial. Knowing that she needed to face another day as Mr. Queen's EA in a matter of hours,  she wandered to the shower and turned up the heat.

The climb into the tub turned into an epic failure. Felicity caught her shin on the side of the tub and crashed, twisting sideways onto her hip and shoulder and cheek, but not before trying to brace herself with her arm. She cried out in agony and gagged at the sound of something cracking.

Tears streamed down her face from the pain, and then from the frustration. She could barely move. She needed help. And she needed it badly.

Felicity managed to turn herself around in the tub, but getting up and out was not in the cards. She mentally praised her dependence on technology and her decision to rent the place with the itty bitty master bath, for without both, she wouldn't be able to reach her phone.

Aware of her nakedness, she called Sara first. Sure, logic would say call 911, but hospitals gave her the creeps. Plus, the wound on her shoulder was just healing up. She was positive a doctor would notice that, and ask questions, and possibly end up calling the police, and she already got Detective Lance in enough trouble with the earthquake machine. She didn't want him to cover for her and Arrow business again, at least not because she couldn't handle showering.

Sara didn't pick up. She tried two more times, with no success. Diggle was next on her list, but he too didn't answer. _Is there some Arrow emergency, other than me?_ Felicity scowled, pain shooting across her cheek. She tried both Oliver and Roy once, but again, there was no response.

That's when she realized she was going to have to go to the hospital. Old bullet wound and all.

*

Steve wasn't asleep when his phone rang. Seventy years of being comatose was plenty of rest in his opinion. He expected it to be Natasha, because, quite frankly, no one else called him. Instead, a smiling Felicity appeared on the telephone's screen. He hesitated for a moment before answering, afraid this was the famed booty call that so many of the young S.H.I.E.L.D. agents spoke of. Felicity, calling him at an hour where she should be sleeping, met the first criteria.

However, Natasha considered Felicity to be more his speed, and his speed did not include booty calls.

"Hi Felicity," he answered.  
"Steve," Felicity sobbed, "I need you...to...come...my apartment..."

Steve dropped the phone and ran, testing her doorknob (pleased to find it locked) before breaking it open. He scanned the home, listening carefully, and rushed towards the sounds of pain. What he found was more Felicity than he bargained for. Pushing that as aside as he could, Steve turned off the water and knelt beside her, focusing on her eyes.

"Felicity, I need you to stay calm and talk to me. Can you move?"   
"No," she choked out another sob, and Steve's heart broke.   
"We need to get you to a hospital Felicity. I have some medical training, but you need a real doctor. I'm going to move you now so we can get you dressed in something. Are you okay with that?"  
"Okay...yes...please," she cried.

As gently as he could, he manoeuvred Felicity from the tub, keeping her wrapped in the shower curtain he found her in. Steve supported her left side when he noticed that the right sustained the most damage from her fall. Knowing she couldn't walk to her bedroom, he carried her with as little movement as possible.

Steve scouted the room for easy to wear clothing. Felicity pointed to a pair of pyjamas pants on her bed, and a large t-shirt on the floor with the letters MIT scrawled across the front. Thankfully, he got her in the shirt and pants without exposing any delicate parts. Once she was fully covered, he let go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Socks?" Felicity said with hope. Not wanting to waste time searching her room, Steve peeled off his own wool socks and pulled them over her freezing cold toes.

Determined to stop her pain as quickly as possible, Steve balanced her in his arms, grabbed her car keys, and didn't bother with shoes.

*

The last thing Felicity remembered before darkness wasn't the pain, but Steve's soothing voice, telling her they were almost there.


	5. The Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Oliver met Captain America, it took all his control to not put his fist into the man's jaw.

When Sara woke, she noticed Oliver was already back at it, taking out his Slade Wilson frustration on the giant tire he dragged in from some alley. She glanced at her phone, and was a little taken aback that she had three missed calls from Felicity, but no voicemail or text. Judging by the time stamp, the calls came in two hours earlier.

"Ollie?" Sara called. He dropped the sledgehammer and made his way over to her.  
"What?"  
"Did Felicity call you earlier?"  
"What?" he looked at Sara, confused, and then tracked down his own phone. "Yeah...around two...no message. She called you too?"  
"Three times."

Oliver dialed Diggle immediately. And then again, and again, until he finally picked up.

"Oliver, man, what?" Diggle barked.  
"Did Felicity call you around two this morning?"   
"What?"  
"Did Felicity call you--"  
"Yeah. She alright?"  
"Get to her place. Her phone tracker says that's where she's at. Sara and I will meet you there."  
"Got it."

*

Digg arrived at the same moment Oliver pulled up on his bike.

"Sara stayed back. Said she was going to do some quick searches, just in case," he explained, as they made their way to Felicity's front door. Finding it broken sent both of them into defense mode. Digg pulled his gun, and Oliver tensed, ready for a fight.

Two seconds after they entered Felicity's home, her phone rang. Digg found it, and a ripped shower curtain, in the bathroom. He holstered his gun, and answered, seeing that it was the kid.

"Felicity called you too?" Digg asked.  
"Yeah, Blondie alright? She never calls me," Roy responded, concern in his voice, "And what's with you answering her phone? Shit...she's not alright, is she?"  
"Digg!" Oliver hollered from the living room. Digg didn't hang up with Roy, but simply brought him along.  
"Find anything?"  
Oliver looked lost, and even though Digg was worried about her too, he knew that Oliver was at a breaking point. Losing Felicity would, most certainly, kill the guy. "Sara just texted. Felicity's in the hospital. Sara couldn't hack the files. She doesn't know what happened to her," he despaired.  
"Hear that?" Digg spoke quietly into the phone.  
"Meet you there," Roy told Digg before hanging up.

*

"Where is Felicity Smoak?!" he demanded from the first nurse he came across, knowing that he was losing control but incapable of reigning it in.

For once in his life, the Queen name paid off. The nurse recognised him, stopped the advancing security guard, and beckoned Oliver to follow her to the front desk. It was good that's how it happened, since Oliver wasn't sure he could have kept a lid on his emotional turmoil.

"She's in room 803."  

Oliver rushed towards _his_ Felicity, needing to see her, to know she was safe, to make sure she knew that she wasn't alone.

The only problem: turns out she actually wasn't alone.

The first time Oliver met Captain America, it took all his control to not put his fist into the man's jaw. He was leaning beside the door of room 803, and shifted, almost imperceptibly, blocking Oliver's entrance to Felicity's room. If Oliver wasn't Oliver, he wouldn't have noticed the man's adjustment. Seeing as how he was Oliver, it only sent him into a fury.

"Who are you?" he growled.  
"I'm Steve Rogers," he extended his hand, as if not noticing Oliver's hostility. Oliver was most definitely unimpressed. If this guy was sent by Slade Wilson, his nemesis was even crazier than they thought.   
"Where. is. Felicity?" he punctuated.  
Again, ignoring Oliver's threatening tone, he replied calmly, "She's speaking to the doctor right now."

As if on cue, Dr. Lamb opened the door.

"Oliver! Wonderful to see you," Dr. Lamb greeted him with a handshake. With every trick he learned about self control and deception, Oliver carefully hid his very frustrated, angry, terrified feelings.  
"How is she? What happened?"  
"Miss. Smoak can tell you all about it. If you could, please let your mother know she has my full support in her campaign." He nodded to Oliver, then the other guy, before disappearing down a hallway. Without missing a beat, Oliver was inside Felicity's room, staring at something he only saw in his nightmares.

Felicity's face was both pale and bruised, her hair framing it in wild curls. Her cheek was held together with butterfly bandages and her forearm was wrapped up in a purple cast. Blaming the hallway stranger for Felicity's condition, he moved towards him, preparing to slam him against the wall and never stop punching. And he would have, if not for Felicity's introduction.

"Oliver," Felicity said too firmly, stopping his advance, "This is Steve Rogers. He's my friend and neighbor. Steve, this is Oliver Queen.  My friend and boss."

Her introduction didn't make him like the guy any more. And it still didn't tell him why this guy was there, at the hospital, with Felicity. She never mentioned a Steve Rogers. Not once. When did they meet? How did they meet? Were they dating? _No,_ Oliver reproached, _Felicity isn't dating anyone. She's waiting for Barry. Non-threatening Barry_. And then Oliver couldn't stop from analyzing why he labelled Barry non-threatening, nor why the idea of Felicity and Barry suddenly seemed a lot more appealing than the idea of Felicity with Steve Rogers.    

"There's the cavalry!" Felicity voice pulled him back to the moment, and Diggle gave her a sweet smile and Oliver a stern look as he entered 803. Rogers extended his hand again, but this time to Diggle. _What is it with this guy?_ Oliver rolled his eyes, disappointed at Felicity's pleased look. Normally he craved that face. At least he craved it being directed at him. _She's probably looking like that because of Diggle. She's happy to see Diggle,_ he repeated.  

"Hi. Steve Rogers. You must be John Diggle." Oliver watched the men shake hands. There was something very military about it, and he started to think that Rogers was an army guy like Digg.   
"I am."  
"Felicity speaks very highly of you."

Oliver didn't expect that. He knew, of course, that Felicity loved and respected Diggle. She, in fact, had made up a song three days earlier about those very feelings when he brought her a pack of gummy bears. He just didn't expect that Felicity told strangers about Diggle.

And, if he was being honest, which he tried to be (internally, at least), it hadn't escaped Oliver that praise from Felicity was more than absent during his introduction to Rogers. The idea that Felicity didn't speak highly of him too, even if it was to a stranger, cut deep.

*

She regaled them with the story of how she manage to bruise her cheek and hip, fracture her arm, and twist her ankle all by trying to take a shower. She started over twice, once when Sara appeared, and then again when Roy walked into her room.

"So I was super naked. Which, duh. I was in the shower. Who showers with clothes? Unless there's a chemical spill, and you need to...wait, where's my Jello? I'm in a hospital, aren't they supposed to give me Jello?"  
"We'll get you some Jello," Diggle patted her un-casted arm.   
"Where was I?"  
"Naked," Roy supplied with a smirk, earning him a jab to his side from Sara and a glare from both Oliver and Steve.   
"Right. Me. Naked. So I called Sara, because she's a girl, and I'm a girl, and I thought two girls together would make a lot more sense--"   
"Couldn't agree more," Sara laughed.  
"Not like that! Though there actually was a few times in college with one of my roommates Bethany--" Diggle cleared his throat, stopping her from going any further.  
"Did they give you some medication for the pain?"  
Steve answered him. "Oxycodone. Felicity," he stepped towards her and her insides were giddy when he placed a warm hand on her leg. "I'll be right back okay?"

She nodded, then remembered the socks.

"Are your feet okay?" She knew she looked at him dreamily, happy that the drugs neutralized any embarrassment she would have felt about wearing her heart on her sleeve. Or face, in this case.   
"Yes. A nurse was kind enough to bring me a pair of footwear. I'll be right back."   
"What's with the feet question Blondie?" Roy asked her, just as Steve closed 803's door.

She wiggled her non-injured leg's toes in response, expecting everyone to catch on that she was wearing Steve's socks. If they didn't get it, no one said anything.

"Can I help?" she asked Team Arrow, and either her question or her giggle, which accompanied her mental use of the team pet name, caused them to look at her like she had ten heads.  
"Felicity, what are you talking about?" Oliver grasped her hand, while the remaining members hovered closer.   
"I just...you guys were unreachable. Nothing night-businessy was going on?"  
"I wouldn't say nothing," Roy smugly remarked before a certain look came over his face that was a mixture of pride, shame, pleasure, and fear. The last part only flashed when Oliver glowered, leading Felicity to believe Roy was busy with Thea when she called.

She then looked to each of her other comrades, whose expressions ranged from sheepish to, well, sheepish. Diggle was the first to give her an explanation.

"I'm sorry Felicity. Lyla was over...I didn't hear the phone."   
"Oliver and I are sorry too. We should have heard our phones, but they weren't near us...," she stopped when Oliver gave her a shut-up now look, followed up quickly with his trademark this-is-all-my-fault grimace.  
"So, you mean to tell me that you were all too busy having sexy-fun times to answer the phone?" Felicity snorted a laugh, knowing that if she wasn't so medicated, she would have been (a) jealous and (b) ticked. "Except Roy," she added when Oliver's grip on her hand tightened to just shy of painful, "because he's dating your baby sister and baby sister's don't indulge in sexy fun times with their stud-muffin boyfriends."

*  
"Speaking of stud-muffins Felicity," Sara said, ignoring, possibly toying with, Oliver's degrading mood, she motioned to where Steve was walking back down the hallway towards the room. "Is that the friend?"

Felicity didn't respond, but her smile told Sara everything she wanted to know.

Just like Oliver's confused, angry stare.

*

"Hi Steve," Felicity greeted brightly when he came back into the room.   
"I brought everyone a coffee or tea. Ma'am?" he offered a cup to Felicity's friend Sara first, which she gladly took. "Mr. Diggle? Mr. Harper?"

When Steve rounded the bed to offer Mr. Queen a beverage, he noticed Felicity's hand was being held by her boss, and immediately thought back to Natasha's whistle and his Pepper-Tony analogy. _Maybe Felicity isn't available_ , he sighed.

"No thanks," Oliver was brisk, and Felicity shot him a look before stealing her hand away from him and reaching it towards Steve.   
"Any for me?"  
"No ma'am. Doctors orders."   
"Really?"  
"Yes, I checked. Otherwise I would have brought you a decaffeinated coffee."  
"Decaf? Yuck."  
"Just so you know, I wouldn't have told you it was decaf."

That managed to get a laugh from her, and he suddenly felt like he was back on even ground with Mr. Queen.

*

Oliver watched their exchange, very uneasy. He still knew absolutely nothing about this guy. He'd been searching the internet for any clue since Diggle arrived, but unlike his targets before Felicity, Steve Rogers was not a high-profile Starling City resident, so the only way he was going to find anything good was by using Felicity's systems.

And then she'd know.

Which was not an option.

"Miss. Smoak?" A nurse popped her head in. "We have your discharge papers ready. You just need to sign and then you can be on your way."   
"You can't be serious," Oliver frowned. "Shouldn't she be kept for observation? What if you're concussed?"  
"Oliver, I'm not concussed."   
"Felicity, we can get you a private room. You should rest."  
"I can rest just as well, better in fact, at home."  
"Felicity--"  
"Stop it Oliver. Did you recently get your MD? No? Didn't think so. Dr. Lamb is discharging me, so I'm discharged. And don't you for one second think about going to him and getting him to change his mind by donating a stupid hospital wing or something. Not that a hospital wing donation would be bad...but even if you do that, I'm not staying."

*

Steve listened to them. Mr. Queen clearly cared deeply for Felicity, which didn't surprise him. She was the type of woman that was easy to care for. The other thing he noticed about Mr. Queen were his disturbingly eerie similarities to the only other billionaire Steve was familiar with. The trait concerning him the most at the moment was that Stark, and presumably Queen, always managed to get what they wanted.

*

"You guys can head home. I'm sorry you all came down here just to see me get discharged. It was really sweet. I should have texted you all, but, as weird as this is going to sound, I didn't have any devices on me to get you a message."   
"We'll take you home first," Oliver commanded the room.   
"Don't be ridiculous. Steve will take us home. Me and him I mean. Not all of us. We wouldn't all fit in my car. We could try I guess, but then it would be very clown like, and I don't think clown make-up really suits anyone. Plus, those shoes clowns wear are probably really difficult to store, and you couldn't have a clown car without clown shoes. I wouldn't mind learning to make balloon animals..."

Oliver could feel the colour drain from his face as Felicity's drug-induced babble was reduced to background noise. He felt sick at Felicity's confession that her and Steve had a title of "us".

"It's really no problem Felicity," Oliver tried again.   
"You took your bike, Digg took his car, Sara took her car, Roy took Thea's car, and Steve drove me here in my car. Even though I'm on some seriously good pills, I know that my plan is the smart plan. Because I am. Super smart that is. Genius smart actually. I can pull up my transcripts Oliver Queen and trust me when I tell you that you do not want a comparison between my A plus plus pluses and your lack-luster grades."

Knowing he wasn't going to win, and that Diggle was clearly not going to support him (which would have been the only way he might have won), he begrudgingly shrugged his acceptance.

*

It didn't go unnoticed by Steve that Felicity's friends didn't leave her alone with him. Sara and Roy seemed perfectly fine with him. Amused, almost. Diggle was certainly cautious, though Steve contributed that to his military roots. Oliver evidently didn't trust him, since he was the ringleader behind waiting until the very last possible moment before leaving him alone with Felicity. He even offered to ride with them, but Felicity refused.

"Sorry about that," she apologized when her car finally separated them from everyone else. "They're an over protective bunch."  
"How did you know I was thinking that?" For a minute he was nervous he'd taken on her habit of speaking unfiltered.   
"Don't worry. I don't think you gave anyone but me that impression. You were more than perfect tonight. It's just not the first time I've seen the holy-bubbles-these-guys-are-overprotective look. Roy wore it all the time around Oliver when he started dating Thea. She's Oliver's little sister."   
"And that's what Mr. Queen treats you like? Family?"  
"Yes. We are a family," she said, "Like a bodyguard-slash-driver-EA-CEO family..." she added hastily.  
"And Ms. Lance and Mr. Harper?"  
"Sara is Oliver's girlfriend and Roy, like a said, is the sister's boyfriend. I called him because I thought he might be at the club...he works there...and so does Sara and Thea...it's Oliver's club but Thea runs the show. So if he was there, and Sara was there, then she could help me, or if Oliver was there, then Diggle would have been there, and they could help me."  
"Oliver's girlfriend?" he questioned.  
"Yep, she's kick ass."

He pondered that for a while. Maybe Mr. Queen wasn't interested in Felicity...but a part of him doubted that. He'd seen his share of overprotective older brothers, and they didn't look at their sisters the same way that Mr. Queen looked at Felicity. Before Steve could ask her any more questions, she had fallen asleep with her head against the car window. Still asleep by the time they arrived back at their complex, he grabbed her crutches and carried her. At the crossroads to their apartments, he paused.

After a moment of consideration, he decided to bring her to her own bed, as she requested it earlier, and stay on her couch since her door was currently inoperable.

"Where are you going?" she murmured from her bed.  
"The couch. I broke your door earlier to get in, so I don't want to leave you or your belongings unprotected."   
"Stay. Watch a movie with me?"

She patted beside her position on the bed. With a small silver remote, she turned on a television and selected something he was unfamiliar with. Not that he was overly familiar with current television programs to begin with.

"What's this? he asked her.  
"Hmmm, just a movie called _Despicable Me_. You haven't seen it?"  
"Nope."  
"You'll like it."

And she wasn't wrong.

He was going to tell her, until he saw that she was fast asleep, curled into his body. He wasn't sure when it happened, or how he hadn't felt the satisfaction and pleasure coursing through him the moment she touched his body with hers.

Eager not to wake her, and more comfortable than he'd been in ages, he closed his eyes and let the feeling of Felicity's heart beat and breath lull him to sleep. Steve had a single, conscious thought before drifting off.

_Maybe billionaires don't always get what they want._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kind words and story-love!!! 
> 
> I'm feeling a part 2, what about you? (please be patient, although I've written four sentences of a part 2, I still need to plot-line it!)


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